


Blue Dark

by comete



Series: Victor/Duncan [2]
Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Boys In Love, Crossdressing, Drag Queens, Duncan is trying to understand his feelings, Hookups and maybe dating, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Non-Explicit, Time for the real tags, Undefined Relationship, Victor is getting ready to kick ass, aaaand thats what you missed on (glee), but ends up getting uwu instead, but we wont tell!, mm yummy some duncan content!, spoiler! its LOVE!, the fandom says "who"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25442374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comete/pseuds/comete
Summary: “Do you know why I like you?”
Relationships: Duncan/OC, Duncan/Victor
Series: Victor/Duncan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847533
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Blue Dark

_”Fuck!”_

Rummaging, thrown clothes, even noisier display of the full wreckage of chaos that made up the small single-wide tin trailer. The home was one room that stretched out into a small kitchenette (microwave and counter with a sink), closed off bathroom that a person could barely fit in, and a mattress that laid directly on the floor without a sheet. There wasn’t much expanse for anything else, but somehow endless amounts of clutter still found its way to litter the floor and any available surface that was at some point a vacant space.

Most of the items that claimed a stake in the home were a mixture of old vinyl records with numerous scratches from being overhandled, dirty clothes that had grown stiff with time, and makeup from a certain inhabitant that visited the premise frequently despite not living there. 

_Speaking of._

Duncan sniffed in a sharp inhale with his still shut eyes, body blooming to life for another day as he heard items being tossed around his trailer. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who the perpetrator of the noise was, but yet he still found it in himself to stretch out his weary bones to get a fruitful eyeful of the owner. Moving his aching body to pull away from the mattress momentarily, Duncan shifted his frame until he was flipped over onto his back and half-assed sitting up on his sunbaked elbows. He was shirtless- no, not just that, he was completely _naked_ and throbbing from the previous night’s intimate galavanting. The thought of how tangled up they got spawned a smirk on his face, eyes squinting through the tired to watch the tossing of items.

“What is it, babe?”

Duncan knew the instant that Victor spun around from his back view of facing away from him that whatever it was, it wasn’t anything good. (Un)fortunately for Duncan, he was about to learn rapidly what the issue was whether he liked it or not. 

Victor crossed his mocha arms over his chest, squinting at his lover for a reason other than being tired. Standing tall with legs that seemed to travel for miles, he shifted his bare knees to a different angle and displayed how wrecked his appearance was from the adventures the two boys had shared the previous evenings. He at least had the decency to throw on his pale blue laced panties that rode up the back along with his uncombed black wig. He was a sight, that was for sure, overly pronounced drag makeup smudged to almost near oblivion. 

“You were supposed to wake me up, asshole! I’m meeting with the girls this morning for tea and you turned off the alarm! Hollis and Chris have been waiting for over an hour! Now I’m rushing to get ready and, it gets better, you ripped my underwear with your teeth like a _beast_ so now I’m going to be half falling out all day!”

Victor was pissed, but it was tricky for Duncan to not smile. So complicated in fact, that he utterly beamed an unforgiving grin. What was he supposed to apologize for? Being so infatuated with the crossdresser that he didn’t take an extra moment to slow down for the sake of preserving the life of a pair of panties?

“Aw, come on,” Duncan eased with his usual unbothered easy-going smile. “You _loved_ the teeth bit and didn't seem to be complain' through the moans. So what if it got a tiny bit damaged? That’s what they call, uh, usual wear-and-tear, right? You know how I get, Vi.”

An overdone, purposefully harsh exhalation left Victor’s nose with a hard squint before the bare-chested teenager turned back to ransacking throughout numerous falling apart cardboard boxes in search of an outfit that was suitable to wear. 

_He wasn’t serious, was he?_

It was one thing to get a little _banged up,_ but it was another for Duncan to go animalistic and start tearing through fabric like it was a fucking steak dinner! 

“And about the alarm clock,” Duncan continued although he probably should’ve quit while he was ahead. “I think _we_ knocked the cord out of the socket last night. Damn, I think we just about brought down the entire trailer. So, really, it’s kinda… I mean, you have some ownership in this. Not saying that you _alone a_ re to blame, but it takes two to tango- well, two to fuck, and-”

Yeah. He really should’ve stopped talking _long_ ago.

Victor straightened out his posture, fingers on his slim waist that drummed in irritation to a beat that was missing a melody. It was an entirely ridiculous situation, right? Prep-turned-poverty-struck-drag-queen engages in a hidden sexual affair with student-turned-pothead-dropout. 

It was a bad joke. They both wondered at times if there was a punchline somewhere that was missing the first act.

Victor spoke first after a few second staring contest, one that Duncan was glad to lose by shifting his gaze at the ratted coal-black wig on Victor’s head. “You’re crossin’ a line between _brave_ and _stupid_ right now, Duncan. It’s a thin line and you’re starting to trample over it. Now, how about you toss me my makeup bag before I toss you out the window?”

Toothy smile at the momentarily white flag waved for the sake of not being late to the girls outing any further, the musician sat up fully till he was no longer supported by his arms and reached to the only nearby side table, He picked up the faded pink zip-up bag, knocking his hand into the dead-faced unplugged alarm clock and being mindful to not dump the ashtray that was home to several butts of cigarettes. Many of those cigarette ends had lipstick faded marks from a particular unnamed individual.

Victor shimmied into a proper fitting pale lavender dress with frills at the bottom in lace, viewing his appearance in the dirty spotted reflection of the silver microwave after taking a step back to get the full experience. It was rough, especially dampened with wrinkles from having sat obscure in the pile of outfits Victor had left over a long period of seeing Duncan. It would have to work for today, not having many other options presented.

Duncan whistled a short attention-grabbing note, tossing the bag that Victor caught with ease. He hurriedly zipped open the bag that was home to an obscene amount of brand named makeup products, reaching his hand in the pandora box to find a precise shade of lipstick that would compliment the dress well.

“So, um, I was thinking that we could go out tonight.”

Victor shrugged as he utilized a near dripping amount of coral pink lipstick to his parted and pouting edges, hazel eyes focused on his reflection rather than the townie who sat in bed. “Uh-huh. Where to? Burger Shot?”

The musician reached a hand up to his relatively shaved head, governing a needless wave of fingers through the small faux mohawk he kept trimmed and maintained. No, he didn’t want to go to a fast-food joint. It wouldn’t be _romantic_. Duncan knew that he didn’t know much of a clue about _romance_ other than the sappy posters for tear-worthy chick-flicks that he saw plastered to the walls of the town’s only movie theatre. The girls in it always were kissing a hunk male lead, usually with rain pouring down on them even though their makeup was somehow kept perfect and the guys didn’t seem disturbed.

The townie cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching as his freckled arms and tracing over his tattoo that was an exhibit on his bicep. “No, not a place like that. Like a, uh… I was thinking we could try, um, Le Bernardin?”

Victor drew his unmascaraed eyebrows together, popping the cap back onto the lipstick with a satisfying click as he took in a glimpse at the man on the mattress through the murky reflection. 

_Wasn’t that the place across from the Aquaberry store that cost an arm and a leg for a minuscule portion of food?_

“Why? What are you going to tell me at the restaurant that I’m not going to like?”

That was the single reason he would bring Victor to a place like that, the crossdresser feared. To dump him _(though they weren't dating-dating)_ or to confess through ridiculous price inflated tiramisu and a string quartet that there was another woman _(or was it man?)_

Duncan was quick to refute the misleading point of view, shaking his head in protest while he scrambled to stand from his poor bed on the floor of the tin home and haphazardly slipping on a pair of old boxers. “No, no, Vi,” he swiftly ventured to make a daring recovery. “Nothing bad, not at all. I promise. I’ve been on my best behavior. It's just that I want to… I want to go out together. Somewhere nice. I-I don’t want to keep taking you somewhere cheap and then doin' you behind a dumpster afterward, though I ain't complainin' or nothin'.”

This earned a playful smack from Victor’s freehand intending to hit him in the groin but missing at scarcely striking Duncan’s thigh due to his quick sidestepping. Victor felt a small hue glow from his cheeks, though a contradictory smile blossomed on his freshly painted lips. It was a sweet sentiment from a boy who usually went for quick dirty escapades and dollar menu items. It was the thought that counts, Victor mused, but it was also the thought that bothered him.

_It was getting too personal. Too real._

_Duncan was right, though. He had been on his absolute best behavior the last few weeks._

“And what happens after we dine-and-dash? We comin’ back here so you can rip off my dress and wakeup the neighbors or does Prince Charming have something else planned?”

Duncan laughed at the good-natured teasing of his primary hookup partner, easing back on the balls on his feet while his chuckle died down in a few nervous “ha”s. He felt agitated, so damn anxious over just some _guy_ and it drove him through the roof. It didn’t make sense to him in the least bit why he was losing his edge over a man in a wig, yet here he was, working up the courage to propose the most _romantic_ gesture he could think of without summoning a sudden downpour of rain overtop of them.

“No dress ripping because I, um, want you to go as Victor. Not Viola.”

The man paused applying his mahogany eyeliner, stopping mid swipe at the spontaneous burst of new information that was driven headfirst into the conversation. Victor composed his brief flash of shock, continuing with the makeup routine with a silence that didn’t bode well for Duncan’s fluttering feelings.

_Oh, fuck._

Tensely Duncan spoke to fill the prolonged painful gap in dialogue, fumbling with his fingers the whole time. “I-I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while and I know you don’t want people knowin’ your gay and all, but we’ve been seein’ each other for, like, months now. I don’t want to hide you away like your some toy I play with and then toss aside when I get done. I wanna go on a nice, stupid _date_ with you and-and I know that you’re scared of your parents findin’ out you dress like a chick or the kids at that dumb fuckin’ academy finding out, but-”

Victor sat down the makeup, perfected putting together his face with careful movements as if Duncan was a scared, wild animal. 

The taller turned his stance upright and faced the anxiety trickled musician, gazing over his features. The guitarist continued to fumble his words although the crossdresser had tuned him out when his strict right-winged parents were brought up. 

It was a proposal that was more heavily weighted than Victor had originally calculated. Going to a restaurant that was considered high-class fine dining on the wealthy side of town was an exploration he didn’t assume they would ever traverse. 

They were the same, Duncan and Victor, however little that they confessed it. They both came from varying backgrounds but were conjoined together with their affection towards one another despite their screeching diversity. They both comprehended little of the world outside of their stages, Duncan an aspiring musician in an alternative band and Victor a makeshift catwalk runner for a hidden drag club on the shady side of town. Differences, though, that played at each other in a charming back-and-forth.

One came from money, the other came from dirt. Promiscuously hidden femininity, obnoxiously loud masculinity. Emotions kept clandestine, feelings on the surface.

They were a tragedy, but in the way that people sought after and would give the last piece of their soul to obtain. 

_So why was it so difficult for Victor to trust him? To trust anybody?_

Victor ultimately raised a hand to Duncan’s cheek, promptly silencing the man as he played with scratching at unshaven stubble with painted black nails that were chipping at the tips. 

“Do you know why I like you?”

_No._

“No.”

Duncan hadn’t the slightest clue why someone like Victor would _ever_ even glance his way, let alone the neverending list of interplays that they had. It was a question that he asked himself often when tossing and turning in his dingy trailer late into the twilight. 

_Why would someone that comes from an abundance of money and poise want to hang around a smelly trailer and an even smellier dude?_ It didn’t fit into the puzzle, circle annoyingly not fitting into the square hole.

The man-turned-temporary-woman toyed with the side of Duncan's face, brushing fingers affectionately down the creases of his profile and paying exceptional attention to scars that were distantly faded from years of age. “I like you because you’re _you_ , Duncan. You’ve never once tried to be anything that you aren't and it’s a trait I admire dearly. The thing is,” Victor continued while caressing his face, “I’m not like you.”

_Well, duh._

“I don’t have that attribute. It’s just not in me. I can’t go out and be loud about who I am; To be loud about being a _gay man._ I want to, I really do, but I can’t because I’m not ready. Someday I will be, God willing, but right now I’m not.”

Duncan understood Victor, for the most part, he chose to believe. It was partially from his research into the community of drag via interviewing attendees at his underground concerts, the other half from extensive discussions with Victor about the subject that Duncan tried to wrap his head around with a welcoming mind that was perhaps more on the side of _empty_ rather than _open_.

Victor enjoyed dressing up like a woman but was still a man. 

It wasn’t that Victor was “transexual” _(a term that Duncan still wasn’t sure if that was a slur or not),_ no, it was that he had fun getting dolled up and lovely in dresses that made him feel comfortable. Out of drag, though, he was an opposite persona once the artificial cosmetics were taken away. Victor was shy to the point of being almost mute in class, often hiding in his dorm and somedays being so overcome with anxiety that he was unable to make it to class. Yet, pop a wig on his head and he bled into a booming personality that refused to be overlooked. 

_How? Why?_

“So no restaurant?”

The townie’s voice was wavering in disappointment, though he tried to put on a show of uncaring to guard his feelings. _It was a stupid idea anyway._ Going out to the snobby part of town, holding up waiters and purposefully complaining about overly salted food, and then at the end of the night pissing in a potted plant before taking the entire bowl of mints and zooming off without paying?

Yup. For sure would’ve been boring, Duncan lied mentally.

“Now hold your horses,” Victor chimed with a hand sliding from Duncan’s expression to the crook of his exposed neck. “I never said we ain’t going. No, we’re _definitely_ going and we’re going to show those rich bastards what it’s like to mingle with the kids from the bad part of town. You’re just gonna have to deal with me wearing a dress while we outrun the cops.”

Oh. Duncan could deal. _Happily._

Victor knew what was developing. The dragqueen leaned forward to press their lips together the moment he saw Duncan part his mouth to bring up a word that Victor hated to hear. The phrase _‘I love you,’ s_ ending the crossdresser into a spiral of mixed feelings that he didn’t want to face. 

They kissed slowly, both hands moving to cradle the townie’s head to pull him in sweetly while Duncan impersonated the motion on Victor’s dressed hips without the guitarist any the wiser to the sudden action’s intentions.

“I, mm, thought you were late,” Duncan mumbled into the kiss as his lips got smudged with Victor’s lipstick. He wasn’t protesting, though. He backed Victor to the single counter he had, bumping into the microwave while Duncan trapped the tall man against the face of the poking out drawers.

The drag performer nodded, striving to pull away and break free because of the reminder. He was stopped by the man kissing him who held two arms on either side to prevent Victor from running away. “I am,” Victor mumbled, pecking a few stray kisses on the now equally coral lips that seemed too eager to let the time slide away even further. “Move so I can take off. We could’ve had a _fabulous_ morning if you hadn’t unplugged the alarm clock, dick.”

The townie eased off of the man, smiling at the childish insult that was tossed directly at his face. Crossing his arms over his mostly smooth ribs, Duncan stepped away to allow Victor access to the front door to freedom “I didn’t do it on purpose! I was too busy gettin’ you sweatin' and moanin’ to worry about a stupid clock.”

At this, Victor laughed. He strapped on his off-gray scuffed Mary Janes to his feet, cautious to avoid creating _another_ hole in his fishnets. “Always the gentleman, aren’t you? You treat all your ladies like this?”

Duncan’s eyes fonded over Victor’s smile, the usual expressionless deadpanned man treating him to the image. It was a rare treasure that Duncan was appreciative to observe. He conversed with heart, “No, of course not. Just you, Miss Viola. You’re a unique case. I’ll meet you over by the theater at seven, okay? I’ll even buy you roses. Well, more like pick some weeds from the side of the road, but they’ll still smell the same. I think.”

Victor finished securing the parts to his shoes, clicking his heels together to force his feet deeper into the oversized space. _Roses?_ Yeah, he knew it would’ve been too good to be true. Duncan was trying, though, and Victor had every intention of recognizing it privately to the man. “As long as we end up behind a dumpster,” Victor stated in his standard monotone fashion.

The crossdresser left, Duncan grinning in positive consent to the agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: video-space
> 
> Finally, I write something for my bully boyfriend! I've been meaning to put something together for Duncan. I kept procrastinating and then of course at 3AM I'm struck with heartache to write.
> 
> There are a few references to LP;FC, but mostly just calling back to the fact that Duncan is in a townie band. Victor is a man btw! A crossdresser who hides in a different persona, so I want to make it clear that he is NOT transgender. 
> 
> The title is taken from "Video Games," by Lana Del Rey which fits the mood and theme of the relationship between Duncan/Victor. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed. They make my heart scream!


End file.
